


Superb Spider and His Girlfriend

by woyo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Happy Ending, Humor, Pen Pals, Tension, from pen pals to lovers, mutual unrequited love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-13
Updated: 2018-07-04
Packaged: 2019-03-30 19:57:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13958880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woyo/pseuds/woyo
Summary: Superb Spider? Severus Snape frowned the moment he received the letter and realized this stupid name referred to...him.For those who have read my Flowerus Disease (flowers float from the patient. Only a kiss from crush can cure it), I assure you this one is fluffy and soothing.





	1. Chapter 1

Severus Snape was 26 years old when the postman knocked the door of the Spinner’s End in a sunny summer morning.

A Muggle postman.

Snape didn’t have so many visitors, be they Muggles or wizards. So there was no Muggle-Repelling Charm on his house, which seemed like a necessity now.

“Morning,” said the Muggle when Snape opened the door. “The initials of your name are S.S., right?”

“Yes,” said Snape in his long gray nightshirt, who was grumpy in the morning.

“So here is your letter,” the postman handed Snape a pink envelope. “Tell your friend to give a more precise address next time - I’ve knocked nearly every door before I find you.”

“No,” said Snape. “I don’t have any friend who will probably write me a letter with this stupid pink envelope. You must be mistaken.”

“But -?”

Snape tore the letter open. Gathering from the handwriting, he could tell it’s a child. Perhaps six or seven.

 

Dear Superb Spider,

I use S.S. to refer your name in order to keep your identity secret. My mother read me a fairy tale last night. She tells me there is a Superb Spider who lives in Spinner’s End. I look it up in the maps of England and finally find you.

Hello. I am 6. Can we make friends? Do you really sleep in the center of a giant web? Do you really have little girls like me as dinner?

Yours,

Heranger

 

Snape’s lips curled. He had never seen such a childish letter before. Speaking of letters, except this one, so far he had only received the one from Hogwarts when he was 11.

“Would you like to send a letter for me?” Snape’s voice softened. “It won’t take long. This little girl is...so adorable.”

“Alright,” said the postman, who watched Snape took out a pen from nowhere as if it’s conjured up from air.

Snape flipped the letter over and scribbled on the reverse:

 

No Superb Spider here, you silly girl. Only irredeemable morons believe everything written in books. By the way, I am (Snape hesitated. The pen left a black dot on the paper.) the Half-Blood Prince. Don’t you dare bother me with such spider fantasy again.

 

“Done,” Snape pressed the letter into the awaiting postman’s hands. Before he turned back and slammed the door shut, he tossed a Muggle coin at this poor man.

 

 _Seven days. Just seven days._ Snape paced back and forth in the room. On the doormat lay an envelope - thank Merlin it’s not pink this time. The postman didn’t bother to confirm his address this time.

 _Fine._ Snape tore the envelope open.

 

Dear Prince,

You reply thrills me! (Did I write anything amusing? Snape was baffled.) I’ve written letters to Devil Marsh Hare in Rotten Swamp, Leaping Leopard in Misty Juggle and Frosty Frog in Frozen Lake. You are the only one who writes back!

Are you really a prince?

Heranger

 

 _You can never understand kids,_ concluded Snape. He hadn’t been called as the Half-Blood Prince since graduation. For what reason could he pick it up after nine years? No idea.

This Muggle girl is so persistent. Snape sighed as he took a glance at the envelope, which read:

 

To the Half-Blood Prince in Spinner’s End, who rudely scribbles on the reverse of my letter.

 

Maybe he did need some spice in this dull life to redemption. Anyway, Snape read the letter seriously and wrote back.

 

Dear Heranger,

The Half-Blood Prince is mere nickname. For your information, real prince as you read in those silly fairy tales won’t do such degrading things like keeping in touch with a girl from nowhere.

My name is Epans. Unfortunate to meet you.

Sincerely,

Epans

 

He was more used to treat others viciously.

 

Dear Epans,

Few are my peers who get pen pals like I do. How old are you? Last night in my dream you are an old wizard who lives more than a century, mum says there is no wizard in the world. They are both dentists. Never allow candies before bed. Depressing.

Heranger

 

 _She was no witch,_ thought Snape. Now how could he reply this? Tell her that he is already 26? This would definitely scare her away as he would possibly be taken as a malicious pedophilia. So Snape told her several trifles in his daily life to divert her attention away. He only mentioned he was more than six - it’s not a total lie, was it?

 

Ten years later.

The Black sisters had just left. Wormtail was safely locked in the bedroom. Snape paced back and forth as he did ten years ago when he receive the “thrilled” letter from Heranger.

He never thought that connection would develop that longer and deeper. He almost told her everything about himself except double agent affairs and events in wizarding world. She was always considerate and understanding. Though they never met each other, Snape felt she was like a bosom friend to him.

Snape even hired a local Squib to forward letters from Heranger when he was in Hogwarts. True. It took longer for the letters to arrive and needed a dozen of secret-keeping spells as well, but he couldn’t risk the danger of exposing the magical world to a Muggle, could he?

Last year, when the whole Hogwarts was being monitored by Umbridge, he didn’t dare to send any letter to his Heranger. Technically that pink toad wouldn’t spy on ordinary letters from professors, yet even the worst Legilimens could tell there was nothing in her mind but ruthlessness and power abuse. How could he bear the possibility to leak perhaps his only Achilles’ heel after Lily’s death to the whole wizarding world?

Lily...the redemption seemed endless. During the last year, with no letters to and from Heranger, yearning bubbled in this potions master’s heart, forcing him to settle down and look into such strange feelings. Crush? Obsession? Indulgence in being accompanied? If so, was it a betrayal? This little Heranger would be of age within three years in Muggle world so perhaps there was still possibility for him to move from his first love when the war ends?

However, now that the Unbreakable Vow was made, Dumbledore was wounded, an arduous task was to be performed, Snape must give priority to his duties. Sighing slightly, he sat down and started writing carefully.

He could sense the emergence of turbulent waters ahead before stepping into them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to throw kudos and comments at me (๑•ᴗ•๑)


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione Granger stayed alone in her dorm, she had exchanged letters with Epans for ten years. He never told her his exact age but Hermione assumed he was somewhere in his 30s. She nearly shared every secret with Epans excluding her identity as a witch. For more than once Hermione had guessed whether Epans was a wizard, but didn’t wizards prefer to cast some Muggle-Repelling Charm like the Weasleys did? So the Muggle post wouldn’t have successfully delivered at the first place. And he used Muggle stationery...

What’s more, Epans once mentioned he blenched his black night gown by mistake and it faded into gray after he’d done everything he could to rescue it from being stupid baby pink. Could a wizard be that awkward? Definitely not.

Hermione’s gaze fell upon the quietly elegant letter paper from Epans, which was in stark contrast to the parchment beside.

 

Dear Heranger,

Sorry for the absence. Offer my sincere apology to you.

I was on a mission last year and there were secrecy problems. Hope yearning didn’t boil in your little heart.

I am under the impression that you will reach adulthood in...perhaps three years if not mistaken? Chances are that we can meet when the time comes. You told me the awful exams that bother you last year - do they go wrong?

Sunny summer has elapsed; autumn takes its place. The moonlight last night was spectacular. I wish you were here.

Epans

 

Shall she tell Epans the conflicting feelings inside herself? Would he take her as some shameless stupid girl? Well, they had ten-year friendship. If Hermione couldn’t trust him, she couldn’t trust anyone else. Plus, Epans was the last one who could be acquainted with her professor - Snape didn’t have Muggle friends, did he?

 

Dear Epans,

With the absence of your letters that lasts nearly a whole year, it’s so nice to hear from you again. I got my results this summer, most of which are satisfying.

Recently I bump into a serious problem: I fall for my professor.

I know it’s improper and sinister even to imagine such a teacher-student relationship. Most of my classmates hate him due to his severity and indifference. So I can’t confide in them, can I?

He wears black everyday, which matches his usual elegance perfectly well. I exert myself to excel any others in my class, but he never spares a single praise for me. My professor is exceedingly knowledgeable and resourceful. Though he is easily provoked and often loses his temper, I find his behavior cute and somewhat childlike when he rages. My professor exceeds all my expectations for a genius. Underneath his so-called mean, callous, heartless exterior, he just want to be loved. However, for some reason, it seems like only I am the one who bothers to discover these lovable assets.

Have you ever been in love, Epans? Will you woo your love immediately when you have a crush?

Plus, I can’t agree more on the meeting idea. Probably I could bring him to you so you can see how charming he is.

Heranger

 

Hermione put down the pen and stared at the confession. She was sure that Epans would understand her like he did a thousand times she confided in him before. Yet now she was in Hogwarts, Hermione had to send her letter to her parents and they would forward it to Spinner’s End, which would take more time than in holidays. Oh she was dying to know his response.

Though every time Hermione cast an anti-peeping charm on the letters, this time she was more scrupulous when performing the spell. Mr and Mrs Granger must fly into a fury when they saw such confession.

 

Snape was in his usual gray nightshirt when the owl fluttered outside the dungeon. Carefully, he let it in and untied the envelope.

Snape frowned as he kept reading on. Merlin’s blenched night gown, what the hell is that? His Heranger fell for an indifferent prat? And she called that resourceful? And even that professor lost his temper so easily she still considered it childlike and cute?

He stared at it in utter disbelief.

 _Love is blind_ , Snape concluded bitterly in the end.

Unconsciously he started comparing himself with that professor. He admitted he was in no way charming and lovable as he could see explicit hatred on his students’ faces without Legilimency. The childlike innocence was far away from him as well. The only thing they had in common may be the preference of black attire - hold on, Snape looked down and caught sight of his long gray nightshirt - fine, they had nothing in common now.

 _Are my growing crush all doomed to be strangled at birth?_  Snape pulled out a Muggle pen from the drawer and started writing in a subdued bad mood. He tried to show some approval in the idea of bringing that damned professor to him after her graduation. Obviously it’s not successful - the tip of pen punctured the paper several times due to his overwhelming jealousy.

 

The next day every Hogwarts’ sixth years in D.A.D.A. class felt their professor’s apparent rage. Nobody had a slightest hint why he behaved so now that he had his dream job. Even Slytherins got his snide remarks for failing to recognize a certain dark magic.

Jittery crept through everyone’s veins when Snape glanced at the classroom, ignoring Hermione’s raising hand and looked for some prey to throw sarcasm at.

Almost all the students present sighed audibly in relief when Snape finally picked Neville, who definitely didn’t know the explanation of a cryptic definition. He stuttered half a minute without uttering a complete sentence.

“Detention this Saturday, Longbottom. Sort out rotten flobberworms from good ones for me. No need to bring any protective gloves. Dismiss.”

He strode out of the classroom, his long black robe billowing behind him as ever.

“Oh, poor Neville baby! He will be scared to death even by a tiny flobberworm!” mocked Malfoy, sniggering.

“Take it easy, Neville. Harry and me have got used to this old git’s injustice,” said Ron, patting Neville’s shoulders.

Hermione watched as Snape went away, her lips pressed together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like his gray nightshirt, sincerely.


	3. Chapter 3

Not long after Hermione told Epans she was the best one in her class, she was excelled by Harry in Potions. Luckily it’s Slughorn who taught potions now, or she would have to tolerate the derision from Professor Snape.

Speaking of Snape, Hermione felt a knot in her stomach. D.A.D.A. was quite out of her province; she couldn’t even produce a decent Patronus, let alone other defensive advanced magic. Chances were very slim that she could impress him in this class as books wouldn’t help in such a practical art.

At least she couldn’t bear the loss of the Felix Felicis - she needed it for her future confession!

“Harry, how do you make it?” asked Hermione as they sat down in the Gryffindor table for dinner.

“The book Slughorn lends me is a used one. The former owner left many additional tips on the book so - ”

“They are unverified?” Hermione’s eyes widened.

“I suppose so, but they are bloody useful.”

Ron loaded his plate with plum cake. “Give it up, Harry. Hermione won’t believe anything unauthorized even if it wins her a thousand bottles of the Felix Felicis.”

“I just fear the possibility that you may explode your cauldron in another Potions to come!”

“Jealous?” joked Harry.

Hermione was about to retort when an owl carrying her letter flew into the Great Hall and landed in front of her. She dropped the conversation and untied it eagerly.

Harry shrugged.

“Where do you get an envelope that looks so Muggle?” asked Ron while stuffing himself with puddings. “From your parents? But I saw them send you scrolls of parchment as letters last time. And the handwriting is - ”

“Mind your own business,” snapped Hermione.

_No, she couldn’t open the letter here._

Harry tilted his head to her, attempting to catch a glimpse of it. Yet Hermione put the envelope away with such quick reaction that even amazed herself.

“No peeping!”

“I see some End,” declared Harry, laughing.

Throwing a threatening look at them, Hermione finished her dinner hastily and ran to the Gryffindor common room.

Some Gryffindors had finished their dinner already and Romilda was talking loudly about her new boyfriend in the room. Hermione carefully chose a seat on the other end of the room, making sure that nobody would pass by and have a look.

 

Dear Heranger,

I absolutely agree that we should meet after your graduation. You can bring your professor along with you if you are still interested in him then, though I doubt it’s nothing but temporary obsession.

A romantic teacher-student relationship could jeopardize the subtle balance between you too. So ponder deliberately before you make the final decision to reveal it.

Whatever happens, bear in mind that you still have me. I will always be here to offer my help.

Epans

 

Affronted, Hermione stared at the reply. _Temporary obsession?_ How could it be? Epans got her wrong this time.

Still, his support made her not so lonely struck in such improper an obsession with her professor.

Surreptitiously, she took out a Muggle pen.

 

Dear Epans,

The meeting idea is inviting. And I won’t be hampered by teacher-student relationship, then. It’s not an insurmountable problem after graduation.

My professor is always severe and he seemed much more uneasy there days. Last month, he entered the classroom with his lips curled. Nobody dare to make a sound. As usual, he ignored my raising hands and asked Neville questions instead, who apparently had no idea what the right answer was. Consequently, he was put into a detention. Malfoy laughed at poor Neville afterwards - I loathed on his absurd complacence.

If only my professor could smile more often! I only see him sneer. He is even more adorable when wearing a usual sneering smile.

Do people at his age all make such a motionless face? Or is this because he has to deal with dozens of morons?

Heranger

 

Snape was grading the newly handed D.A.D.A. essays when the letter arrived. He put the piles of parchment aside and opened the envelope.

Twenty seconds later, this mighty potions master nearly knocked they stack of essays off the desk the moment “Neville” and “Malfoy” caught his eye.

Fantastic Nevilles and Malfoys and Where to Find Them.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Merlin’s lover letters, was he flirting with his own students? Did the “charming, adorable and childlike professor” infer him, _Severus Snape?_

Snape rummaged through the drawers and came up with the confession letter and re-read it again word by word.

Severe and indifferent. True, if it’s to other three houses, sometimes even to Slytherin.

Wears black everyday. True, as this student could never see the blenched nightshirt - though she had been told its existence already.

Knowledge and resourceful. True, or how could he save Potter umpteen times?

The resemblance stopped here.

Elegant. Cute. Charming. Childlike. Lovable. Marveling at the description, Snape stared at it with a certain amazed detachment. Was it an oxymoron? Or is love _that_ blind?

_Underneath his so-called mean, callous, heartless exterior, he just want to be loved._

This one got him. Love from others had been scarce in his life for a long time, so long that he even stopped making efforts to gain it. Snape fell back on his armchair, thoughts conflicting in his mind.

He had been,was and is longing for love, only to find it distant and obscure. But now this love confession from his student looked too beautiful to be true? How could he contaminate her puppy love with his aged heart?

And how could he violate his own feelings after he cordially wrote “The moonlight last night was spectacular. I wish you were here.”?

Paradox.

Dilemma.

_Put an end to it._

No, she said it wouldn’t be revealed until graduation.

_This is tantamount to connivance._

I’ve known her for ten years. A moment of silence won’t matter.

_You pedophilia._

She will be of age. And I will wait.

At last he struggled up to reach to pile of homework. Snape had known who his Heranger was before he picked out the roll of parchment, the handwriting on which was of little difference with that on paper - quills and pens were not identical anyway. Then Snape rested himself on the armchair, totally in the trance, the name bouncing around inside of his skull:

Hermione Granger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops dunno what to say in the notes


	4. Chapter 4

Now that he knew Heranger was Hermione, Snape could send his letters by owl directly to her, which saved much time that would have been wasted on forwarding. Yet he didn’t dare to intercept the ones she send home, or the obvious difference of time would alert little Heranger.

Snape found himself amused. He hadn’t been paid such attention from females for ages as he always appeared celibate. The idea of teacher-student relationship was doubtlessly inappropriate, however, why not have little fun before the true confession after graduation?

He knew the apple is ripe enough. And if given more time and patience, it would be more sweet.

 

Dear Heranger,

Professors are usually wearing a poker face in order to assure silence, so don’t take it as indifference to your excellent performance - I am sure you are the tip of your class according to your letters.

The Naville (deliberately, Snape misspelled his name to show more ignorance of her world) boy sets an example to you, Heranger. Come up with some splendid idea and have yourself put into detention with him. Then you two can have more romantic time.

Epans

 

An unmistakable smile touched his lips when Snape finished the letter. He would welcome such a detention with anything but flobberworms, of course.

 

D.A.D.A. class.

“Today we are going to learn nonverbal spells,” said Snape, “which involve high level of concentration and mind power. I will be surprised if all of you could get hang of it.”

Snape gestured them to stand up.

“Now divide into pairs,” said Snape. “One partner will attempt to disarm the other. The other, equally, will attempt to repel. All in silence. Go.”

When all the students were practicing in pairs, Snape paced behind Hermione and stopped.

She stood here, waiting for Neville to cast a nonverbal disarming spell that seemed unlikely to come. Neville pointed the wand at her, his mouth locked, face reddening. Snape’s presence added to his anxiety.

Snape wanted to read her mind, to see what’s going on inside when her charming and cute professor was standing behind her. Yet he suppressed this impolite impulse - no, not now.

Hermione, however, felt his heated gaze from behind, which made her quite nervous.

What’s he thinking about? He never stood that close to me before...

“Longbottom, focus,” said Snape.

“Yes, Professor,” said Neville.

“Don’t talk. It’s nonverbal spell. Keep your mouth shut,” said Snape.

Neville made another feeble disarming attempt. Hermione’s wand vibrated but didn’t move.

“Come on, Neville, you are very close,” encouraged Hermione.

The moment Neville flicked his wand in vain, Snape cast a nonverbal disarming spell under the cover of his sleeves. Hermione’s wand flew high and Snape caught it.

“You are supposed to use a nonverbal Protego, Miss Granger,” Snape returned the wand to her. “Neville does his part well, and this is all you get?”

“It’s my fault. I don’t even realize I performed a nonverbal spell when - ” explained Neville hastily.

But Snape had walked away from them, his long robe billowing behind him as ever.

“Never mind,” comforted Hermione. “I didn’t pay much attention when the spell came. Let’s do it again.”

Neville nodded.

Through the rest of the class, poor Neville didn’t perform another decent nonverbal spell. Hermione frowned as she felt being stared at from behind all the time but every time she turned her head to find the peeping one, it’s always student being scolded by Snape.

Sometimes it’s even a Slytherin who did nothing wrong.

Snape chuckled inwardly.

 

“How are you today?” asked Harry as they walked out of the classroom after class. “Snape keeps watching you all the time.”

“Does he?” Hermione was surprised.

“Harry and I see you are being told off by that git,” said Ron.

“Because I failed to parry Neville’s disarming spell.”

“Don’t be upset,” comforted Harry. “Neville does Expelliarmus well in D.A.. No wonder he masters it.”

“I know,” said Hermione. “Just sense something strange.”

“Get only 9 out of 10 in nonverbal spells?” suggested Ron playfully.

“Shut up.”

 

 _Accio Muggle pen,_  thought Hermione, pointing her wand at the drawer, which shook a little.

_Accio Muggle pen._

This time the drawer was opened by an invisible hand and she could see the pen quivered.

_Accio Muggle pen._

The pen made a jump and fell back in the drawer.

_Oh I suck at it._

After the fourth attempt, the pen finally flew to her. Hermione did the same to the paper and settled down to read the newly arrived letter.

_What is Epans playing at? Is he crazy?_

 

Dear Epans,

You must be joking. I can’t afford to be put into a detention. It will detain me, delaying my study plan since I’ve got a lot to learn already... Still, you enlighten me - I will seek another way.

Today we had a class and he watched me practice. His mere presence made me dizzy and I failed. There is still big margin for improvement, though. I wish he could teach me more.

Odd. He never pays such individual attention to me. Did I wear something not decent today?

Plus, Neville performed the task perfectly well today and you misspelled his name. And he complains all day long after his detention.

Heranger

 

Several day later, an owl carrying the letter flew into Snape’s office.

“She wants me to teach her more?”

Snape raised one of his eyebrows, tapping his long fingers on the desk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story starts to be exciting ~


	5. Chapter 5

“Harry! Could you _please_ stop talking about your potions book?” snapped Hermione when Harry was discussing with Ron about the spells on that book. “I am trying to concentrate.”

“You are just jealous,” said Ron, “because Harry gets praised by Slughorn today while you are ignored.”

“No, I am not.”

“No, you are.”

“Fine, so what are you talking about now? How to make another cauldron of the Draught of Living Death?”

“It’s the spell,” said Harry. “The former owner left many spells on this book. I bet he invented most of them himself.”

“He? How do you know it’s a boy?” asked Hermione, a little affronted.

“He signed. The Half-Blood Prince. A prince can’t be a girl, can he?”

Half-Blood Prince? She recalled a faint memory when she wrote her first letter to Epans...

 

...By the way, I am the Half-Blood Prince. Don’t you dare bother me with such spider fantasy again.

 

_So Epans is a wizard? He’s not a Muggle? She had been written to a wizard for nearly ten years?_

No, he said it’s merely a nickname. There could be a thousand Half-Blood Princes if you simply count nickname in. Like Harry, half Muggle blood, half magical blood. Like herself, half human blood, half inks from books. Even Malfoy could be one - half insanity, half stupidity.

Hermione straightened up. “Harry, could you pass the book to me? I want to have a closer look.”

“Careful, Hermione, it’s unverified,” said Ron.

Shrugging, Harry handed her the book.

Hermione examined the handwriting and it’s bound to belong to Epans.

_So Epans is a wizard? And he graduates from Hogwarts?_

“What’s wrong?” asked Ron.

“Nothing,” said Hermione, who took out another roll of parchment and started writing.

Ron and Harry exchanged a puzzled look and resumed their discussion.

 

Dear Half-Blood Prince,

You must be surprised when I write this letter on parchment to you. I used to think you are a Muggle, so I send my letters home and let my parents forward them to you. Coincidentally I find your potions textbook just now, though it’s not in my possession.

So you graduate from Hogwarts? And you have an endowment for potions as well. Perhaps you are acquainted with my professor - he is an extraordinary potions master like you. Yet I haven’t told you his name so you don’t know exactly who he is... Frankly, I am feeling embarrassed now.

I wonder which house you were in. I am in Gryffindor, if you are interested.

Usually wizards or witches who live with Muggle neighbors use Muggle-Repelling Charm to prevent themselves to be seen. Yet the Muggle postman sent my letter to you ten years ago, which was delivered successfully. As...

 

Hermione looked up and caught Ron’s gaze.

“Who're you writing the novel to?”

“Viktor,” Hermione lied as soon as possible.

“Krum?”

“How many other Viktors do we know?”

“But here you write Dear Half-Blood Prince...” Ron pointed out.

“What?” Harry looked up in astonishment. “You are friends?”

“Pen pals. That’s all,” said Hermione, affronted. “So could you please stop peeping at my letters? It’s impolite.”

“But -”

“I am going bed,” Hermione collected her things quickly and bade them goodbye.

 

This time the letter arrived earlier. And it’s a sealed roll of parchment that the owl carried.

 _Wow, this time you invite trouble, Severus,_ Snape thought to himself, _she knows you are a wizard._

Snape unrolled a new scroll of parchment. After staring at it for a while, he rolled it up.

How should he reply?

_Yes, and I am in Slytherin. Precisely, I happen to be your D.A.D.A. professor as well. Nice to meet you, wanna a detention as a welcome gift?_

He could wait. Wait to see what happened next. Wait to see whether she found out his true identity.

He dreamed Hermione calling him Epans that night.

 

“Hermione, pay attention,” said Harry. “Put the book down for a while. We are having a discussion.”

“We are having a D.A.D.A. class soon,” snapped Hermione, her eyes fixed on Prince’s textbook. “Snape could come in and catch us talking at any time.”

“It’s urgent! I will keep it brief. I’ve just come back from Dumbledore - ”

“Alright,” whispered Hermione. “ _Muffliato!_ ”

“What’s that?” asked Ron, who was trying to add more words to his D.A.D.A. homework.

“A spell invented by the Prince,” explained Hermione, “which makes our talk unidentifiable buzzing so we won’t be overheard. I shouldn’t blame you for not reading _Hogwarts: A History_ \- as you guys have read Prince’s book perfectly well without grasping even a single charm.”

“Excellent. Dumbledore told me...” Harry began, ignoring her jibe. And Hermione as well as Ron put down their work to listen attentively.

This was what Snape saw when he stepped into the classroom - little Heranger talking to other boys in his class under the cover of his own spell. Good.

Without further ado, Snape approached them without even making an audible sound.

Hermione undid the Muffliato spell in a hurry.

“Hi,” said Ron.

“I am under the impression that,” said Snape softly, “you three are having a little chat. However, all I hear is annoying buzzing. Explain.”

“I suggest you to see Mrs Promfrey,” said Harry.

Snape’s gaze fell upon on the textbook. “I suggest you, Miss Granger, stay behind after class. You will have another little chat with me, and I promise you it can be anything but buzzing.”

He turned back and started teaching.

Malfoy grimaced at them, mouthing something inaudible.

“Take it easy, Hermione,” whispered Harry. “It’s not a detention. At last not sorting out flobberworms - Neville complains their mucus all day long after his detention.”

Hermione stroke the textbook, remaining silent.

“Weird,” said Hermione five minutes later.

“Pardon?” breathed Ron.

“I think - I am not sure, buy very likely - he knows the Prince. At last, the book.”

“Come on. This is D.A.D.A. class. He will definitely get irritated if you pull out a potions textbook,” said Ron.

Hermione looked up. Yet Snape’s face was inscrutable as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still, dunno what to say in the notes.  
> Shall I spoil that the next chapter contains blood?


	6. Chapter 6

“Professor,” Hermione stayed behind as the classroom emptied.

“Miss Granger,” said Snape, “I hear rumors, only rumors, that Potter wins the Felix Felicis in Potions, dwarfing you entirely. Is that true?”

“True,” said Hermione drowsily.

“Well then, why? You are tired of the title, know-it-all, I daresay?”

“I’ve done what’s clearly written in the textbook while Harry gets some extra assistance so -”

“Only irredeemable morons believe everything written in books, Miss Granger,” interrupted Snape, his eyes sparkling.

Hermione blinked involuntarily.

“So,” Snape went on, “how does Potter act against the textbook? Examples, please.”

“He crushed the silver daggers other than cutting them up.”

“That’s because...”

It was not until Snape rectified all the scholasticism Hermione used to hold that he finally let her go.

Hermione, however, was quite baffled. Being asked to stayed behind class without being punished may set some kind of record in Hogwarts.

But, why?

Irredeemable morons...such a Prince-ish phrase...

She shook the sense off.

 

Hermione was still in thoughts when she returned Gryffindor common room, only to find Harry and Ron seemed to have had a quarrel.

“How is it going? Does Snape torture you?” Harry managed a smile, his voice raspy.

“No...what’s up with you and Ron?”

“Harry is carried away by some ridiculous fantasies,” exclaimed Ron. “He insists Malfoy is up to something.”

“Come on, haven’t you dropped it?” asked Hermione incredulously. “Mr Weasley raided Malfoy’s manor and you can’t produce any solid evidence! Besides, you have Dumbledore’s lessons to worry about. And we still have no idea about - ” Hermione’s lowered her voice, “the Horcruxes.”

“That’s why I need you two!” yelled Harry. “You can help me to keep an eye on him while I am in Dumbledore’s office! Trust me, there must be something he is after - ”

“Nonsense,” said Ron.

“I agree,” said Hermione.

She sat down and took out Prince’s textbook, which was snatched by Harry, who glared at her.

“Help me spy on Malfoy.”

“You are threatening me.”

“I am pleading,” said Harry. “Just do me a favor, okay?”

“...fine.”

“Gee, Hermione,” whistled Ron, “you are really crazy about your Prince.”

 

Hermione spent a whole day practicing the spells mentioned in the textbook. She assumed most of them was invented by Epans himself as she had never heard such spells before, let alone learning it. And she had to admit that some were extremely useful if you happened to need it, like a spell that could help you button and unbutton three buttons at once. As she turned several pages, she found that Epans even strengthened the spell - it could do a dozen of buttons in one go. But  _honestly_ , who would wear a robe that had so many buttons?

A faint hint came to her but she ignored it as she kept reading on.

There was a spell for enemies, _Sectumsempra_. But she didn’t have enemies...yet. And here came  _Levicorpus_  and  _Liberacorpus_...

Then Harry hurried to her, telling Hermione it’s her shift to spy on Malfoy as he had class to attend.

Hermione felt herself stupid to have made such a ludicrous promise. Spying on Malfoy? What’s the point? As if she weren’t busy already! Sighing, she put the book aside, taking out parchment, glancing at the Map from time to time when writing.

_Malfoy was in Slytherin common room._

Dear Epans,

_Malfoy moved around in Slytherin common room._

It has been a long time since your last letter. How are you of late? I wonder whether my former letter lost its way in the long journey.

_Malfoy was having chat with Crabble and Goyle._

I do have more contact with my professor. No, not detention. He took the initiative, asking me to stay behind class.

_Malfoy went out of Slytherin common room._

You can imagine how startled I am! I thought he was to punish me or something. But luckily, he didn’t.

_Malfoy was in corridor._

Instead, he taught me a great deal. Something utterly novel to me and even remind me of... _you_.

 _Malfoy walked into Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom_ \- hold on, girl’s bathroom?

Hermione got alarmed. She put away the letter paper and the Map, rushing to the bathroom Myrtle haunted.

Oh Merlin Harry’s right!

She pushed the door open, gasping.

“You! What are you doing here!” screaming Myrtle. “I am trying to soothe this little startled - ”

“Excuse me? It is a boy in a GIRL’s bathroom!” exclaimed Hermione, pointing a finger at Malfoy.

“Since when,” Malfoy turned back, on whose face Hermione could see tear traces, “I need your permission to go anywhere, Mudblood?”

Hermione noticed he had his wand in hand. Without further ado, she took out hers as well. That he was seen crying it’s perhaps the last thing Malfoy wanted to do right now.

“It’s, Perfect’s duty,” said Hermione.

Myrtle screamed.

“Go back! Myrtle!”

Myrtle sobbed and dived into her usual toilet.

“ _Crucio_!” yelled Malfoy the moment Myrtle vanished.

“You insane? We are in _Hogwarts_!” Hermione dodged. The curse missed her by inches.

Merlin’s toilet Harry’s damn right!

“Who cares? You Mudblood! How dare you to intervene in my - ”

“Once caught, you will - ”

“Cru - ”

“ _Sectumsempra_!”

Several wounds appeared on Malfoy’s chest, bleeding badly. He struggled and finally collapsed on the cold floor, blood oozing under him.

Hermione was about to call Mrs Promfrey when the door burst open behind her - Snape.

Taken aback, Hermione opened her mouth, trying to explain. Before she could invent any explanation, Snape hissed.

“What have you done to him! It’s dark magic!”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes.

“He calls me Mudblood and attacks me! I - I just intend to defend myself and cry out the first spell that comes to me, Pro - ”

Snape pinned her to the wall.

“Do you have any idea how serious this is?” hissed Snape, worry written on his pale face. “Were you caught by other professors, you would have got yourself - ”

Totally stunned, Hermione stared at him. The distance between them was shortening to nearly nil and...

“Run,” said Snape in a hoarse voice. “I will fix this...Go!”

He let go of her, watching her staggered out of the bathroom in shock.

They were so close.

Then Snape turned back, performing healing spells on Malfoy rather reluctantly.

_How could Draco use the M-word so causally?_

 

Hermione’s heart was still racing painfully when she got back the common room. She pulled out a quill and continued writing.

 

Epans, this is serious. I use your Sectumsempra on Malfoy without even realizing it. He would have bled to death but for my professor! I swear I saw him worrying about me today. I wish I could read his mind.

My professor says it’s a very dark magic and I believe you are the inventor? Are you... a Death Eater?

Heranger

 

An obscure idea gradually took shape in Hermione’s mind as she sent the letter to Epans.

No. No solid evidence yet.

 

Epans’s reply arrived earlier than Hermione had expected.

And shorter:

 

What if I am?


	7. Chapter 7

_She wants to read my mind._

 

D.A.D.A. class. Malfoy was absent: he took sick leaves.

“Today,” Snape began, “we are going to learn some advanced magic. That is, Legilimency. A magic that helps the performer read other people’s mind if successful.”

Hermione eyed Snape as he spoke.

“The defense against Legilimency is Occlumency, which acquires a high command of self-control and mind discipline that too demanding to be seen from,” Snape sneered, “even the Chosen One.”

Harry glared at him.

“And a powerful Legilimens has many privileges. For example, you don’t always need to cast the spell to read other’s mind. Eye contact is sufficient sometimes, which made your reading nearly... undetectable.”

“So,” said Snape, “I sincerely invite you to practice Legilimency on your partner then maybe some of you will finally be taught a lesson on how abysmal it can be if your mind is fathomed by others.”

Harry knew perfectly well that Snape referred to Sirius’s death. He turned to Ron, hissing. “I hate him.”

“So do I,” said Ron.

They started practice. And for some reason it looked like Divination; most of the students just waved their wands and guessed what’s going on in others’ mind. As they had known each other for six years, it’s not that hard to make a reasonable assumption.

“You are thinking about your homework.”

“No, it’s dinner. I am a little hungry.”

...

“I suppose,” said Hermione, “you are thinking about...what? I saw a candy wrapper...”

Neville’s face turned pale. “No, you are mistaken.”

“Oh, fine,” said Hermione.

...

“I see your mind,” declared Ron. “You are jinxing Snape.”

“No,” said Harry, suppressing a laugh with difficulty. “I am drowning him in my cauldron.”

Nearly an hour later.

“Well, well,” said Snape and silence fell upon the classroom immediately, “has someone ever been able to perform a satisfying Legilimens?”

Nobody looked up.

“I daresay,” said Snape, “this is...disappointing. What about you, Miss Granger? I am under the impression that you are always the one whose hand raising high.”

“No, Professor,” Hermione looked at him. “I fail to read Neville’’s mind so - ”

“His mind is empty, of course you can read nothing.”

One of the Slytherin sniggered.

“But - ”

“Why not come here and practice it on _me_? Mr Slughorn comments you as top one in Hogwarts. We will see whether he is exaggerating.”

Hermione walked towards him, her eyes meeting his.

_“Legilimens!”_

When she was reading Neville’s mind, it’s like everything was foggy and drained out of color. Hermione knew that’s because she was a poor Legilimens - Harry told them Snape almost saw everything in his life with vivid colors. Yet this time it’s quite different. Hermione’s spell met great obstacle at first and instantly, it went smoothly into Snape’s mind and she saw -

A pink envelope.

No flashing memories. No anything else. Only a pink envelope.

A not so Hermione-ish idea came to her.

“Miss Granger?”

“Yes?”

The envelope had gone. Only a Snape standing in front of her.

“See anything?” his black eyes glittered.

“Nothing, Professor,” she lied.

“I am dismayed,” said Snape. “Dismiss.”

When they left the D.A.D.A. classroom, Hermione was in contemplation, which was mistaken as frustration by Harry and Ron.

“Hey,” said Harry, “Snape is a powerful Occlumens. Chances are that you have succeeded already, only to be blocked by his Occlumency.”

“Yeah,” agreed Ron, “if you practice it on me, I bey you can read everything in my memory.”

“Wanna have a try?” Hermione raised her wand, teasing.

“No, no,” laughed Ron, running away.

 

All the jigsaws pulled together. Snape was right - she was such a silly girl. How couldn’t she realize it earlier?

_Perhaps you have already known it in your subconsciousness. You just refuse to think it’s true._

Epans. E-P-A-N-S. Wasn’t it SNAPE if spelled backwards? Wasn’t Snape adept at potions and so did Epans? Didn’t Snape loath on those dully bookworms? Plus, he never used textbooks when he taught Potions. Instead, he had all the requirements and introductions written on the blackboard.

She wished Snape could teach her more. And he did so after she told Epans her desire. She wished she could read his mind. And here came Legilimency. Hermione was sure that when she performed Legilimens on him, Snape somewhat abandoned his Occlumency so that she could see a pink envelope whilst other memories remained blocked. Or, if You-Know-Who failed to discover Snape’s thoughts, how could she do it with such ease?

_This is unfair, Professor. You have already known how I feel for you yet choose to apply to...connivance? This is not the reaction I want after the accidental confession, sir._

The corner of Hermione’s mouth lifted and she started writing.

 

Dear Epans,

Death Eaters can’t have exchanged letter with me. Even if you were, I believed you have been somewhat reformed. I trust you.

Today we practiced Legilimency. Fortunately, I get the chance to Legilimens my professor. Nevertheless, I read nothing at all. He is so inscrutable, which frustrates me all the time. I have moved to the bitter admission that you are right in the first place, Epans, my crush is no more than temporary obsession. It’s time to wake up - how could I desire such a relationship?

Meanwhile, there are still other good boys to choose from. Do you know Vickor? Vickor Krum. The talented Quidditch player. I danced with him back in fourth year. Oh he is such a gentleman and he keeps writhing to me since then. Yesterday I received his letter, inviting me to his country this summer and I said yes.

I daresay I am a sucker for Quidditch players.

Heranger

 

“Have fun, my dearest _professor_ ,” whispered Hermione as she sent the letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nice revenge, isn't it?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 419 TODAY!!!! OH YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

_Girls are so unpredictable._

This was the first thought that came into Snape’s mind when he received the latest letter from Heranger. He was so livid that he didn’t even notice why this reply came so early - it usually took two more days to arrive.

How dare she play with his heart like this? That Krum? That Quidditch player? Why was every girl head over heels in love with those stupid guys ridding on a broomstick, scoring, saving, seeking, beating?

_“I daresay I am a sucker for Quidditch players.”_

Daresay? DARE?

All the men Snape hated were Quidditch players - two Potters, now Krum made three. Fine. _Fine._

He had done everything to hint her that he, rigid Professor Snape, was her considerate Epans. The phrase “irredeemable morons”. The Sectumsempra. The Legilimens. He even carefully chose a pink envelope for her to see!

Could he miss the chance this time? He remembered the Yule Ball, where Heranger danced with that Krum, whilst he had to comfort disconcerted Karkaroff. And in the fifth year, Krum took advantage of his absence.

It was her crush on Krum that was temporary!

_A perfect chance, Severus._

What?

_You can forget this little interlude and move on. Fulfill your duties. Just forget her._

I can’t, can I?

_It is you that said it’s improper to have such a relationship. You shall be abashed._

I am!

_So you do fall for her._

The voice inside Snape got him. Gradually, he calmed down. True. He didn’t have much time to hide under the Epans name anymore. Sighing, he sat down.

 

Dear Heranger,

This is unbelievable. I know that Krum (actually, Snape had never been involved in any conversation with him), he is a swine, full of overwhelming complacence.

As you have shared a secret with me earlier, here I want to share mine with you.

 

Snape paused. Okay, nice start, now what should he write next?

 

Actually my real name is not Epans and...

 

No, that’s stupid.

 

I am Severus Snape, the professor you fall for, or fell for?

 

More stupider.

Lockhart got love letters nearly everyday before he went insane and the rate remained once a week after he dwelt in St. Mungo’s. Those Hogwarts students exchanged such confessions in Hogsmeade, the Great Hall, even in his class. Why is writing one so difficult when it comes to him?

Sighing again, the potions master threw the drafts away.

 

You must be affronted the moment you know my true identity since you have confided so much in me. In fact I have done a lot to give you clues but you seemed to be consumed with your crush for Krum that you didn’t get them at all.

I apologize for my inactivity before.

Epans is the one you burnt his robe in the first year, the one you stole from in the second year, the one you accidentally met in Shrieking Shack in the third year, the one watched you dance with Krum in the fourth year and the one who was too afraid to lose you that chose not to write to you in the fifth year. Now he sincerely asks you whether you are willing to take his hand in the sixth year and for the years to come.

Severus Snape

 

Staring at the letter, Snape felt a flush on his face which had eluded him for a long time. He rolled the letter carefully and decided to send it in the evening when no one else could catch him in the owlery.

 

That night. Gryffindor common room.

“Snape must be crazy!” exclaimed Harry. “That git takes umpteen points from Gryffindor today! He might have set some kind of record!”

“And other houses,” added Ron. “Anthony tells me he nearly does the same to Ravenclaw, so does Hufflepuff. Even those spoiled Slytherins get told off. Is today some kind of Day of Disaster?”

“Besides the deduction, what the hell is that? I swear in the name of my O, it has nothing to do with D.A.D.A.!” exclaimed Harry.

“Harry, could you lend me the Map?” asked Hermione, smiling. “I need it.”

“Sure,” Harry handed her the Map. “You have finished the essay?”

“No,” said Hermione, scribbling a letter to her parents while glancing that the Map periodically.

“Come on, you must have done it already,” snorted Ron. “An essay on why Quidditch players tend to die young? I doubt it, really.”

“I am not going to do it,” said Hermione, trying hard not to let a laugh slip out of her mouth. “It’s nonsense.”

“Who are you? Where is Hermione? What have you done to her?” cried Harry in disbelief.

“Silence,” said Hermione, who had finished the letter and put it inside a pink envelope.

“I will do this dreadful essay tomorrow,” said Ron drowsily. “Maybe I can invent some reasons to explain their nonexistent immature deaths then.”

“But I can’t!” Harry grew vexed. “I’ve got a class with Dumbledore tomorrow night!”

The spot marked Severus Snape on the Map started moving out of his office towards...the owlery.

Hermione stood up with the pink envelope in her hand.

“Where are you going?”

“The owlery.”

 

Snape found himself lamentable.

He received the letter in the morning, wrote the un-Snape-like reply, deducted millions of points from three houses, forced his students to make up ludicrous reasons for Quidditch players death and now, sent letter to Heranger at night when no one would drop by owlery at that time.

Yet there was someone here already.

The very Hermione Granger.

“Miss Granger?” he hid the letter behind him almost immediately.

“Oh,” Hermione turned back, “Professor?”

Snape felt his composure slip a fraction.

“What are you doing here?”

“It’s owlery, of course I am sending letters. To my parents,” said Hermione, trying not to laugh out aloud as Snape’s expression was so amusing when he was tantalized. And her parents must be astonished when they received a pink envelope as they usually got scrolls of parchment before.

“In a pink envelope?” asked Snape softly. “May I assume...it’s to a lover outside Hogwarts?”

“Even if it is, you can’t take more points from Gryffindor for that, right? The deduction today has reached unprecedentedly high and the hourglass had been emptied,” teased Hermione.

Snape glared at her, clenching at the letter behind.

“So,” he said quietly, “you have finished my essay?”

“No, not yet,” said Hermione as she carefully tied the letter to a school owl’s leg. “I give priority to this letter. It’s important.”

The carefulness and the pink color stung his eyes.

“So what are you doing here, professor?” 

“Nothing much,” said Snape, his tone containing no evidence of the boiling emotions that lurked in his eyes.

“Enjoy your night, Professor.”

He walked downstairs.

 

On the way back to his office, Snape muttered something and all the points he deducted from those poor houses today were restored. Then he walked towards a fireplace, throwing his reply into flames, which burnt into ashes then and there.

Just like his ego.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone has to die in the next chapter.   
> Hint: a male.


	9. Chapter 9

The next day, Snape grew even gloomier. There were dark shadows under his eyelids, suggesting it had been a night where sleep was hard to find.

Oddest thing was that he canceled the former assigned essay, which was unprecedented. He just felt all the goals he’s after, all the wishes he held desperately were simply... gone. Rumors got around. That someone drank the Polyjuice Potion and transformed into Snape was the most popular one, which was believed by many students except Harry.

“Nobody could be more contemptible than him,” he declared.

Hermione wondered whether it’s too much for her professor. In fact, Krum did invite her but she declined, and since she hadn’t developed relationship with Krum in the first place, it’s unlikely that she would do so after cherishing a fever love for her professor, would she?

She was waiting for a chance. A chance that she could tell Snape directly. Hide-and-Seek game should be over.

 

With no annoying homework to do, that night in Gryffindor common room Hermione played wizarding chess with Ron, which was the only thing she lost at. When she was pondering on the next move, the portrait hole burst open.

It’s Harry.

He was holding a pair of balled-up socks.

“Here,” he gasped. “Take it. Share it with Ginny. Tell her I love her and - ”

“Hold on, what happened?” asked Ron. “What do I need socks for?”

“It’s the Felix Felicis inside. Hermione, Ron and Ginny. You three share them. Pity that it’s only a small bottle...”

“What’s going to happen tonight? You get me nervous.”

Harry leaned forward and lowered his voice.

“Dumbledore has found a...Horcrux. He will take me with him to destroy it. My scar starts prickling and I have a hunch that something bad is going to happen. So, keep safe, please.”

“Okay, don’t you drink some?”

“I will be with Dumbledore, so don’t worry about me,” said Harry. “And, Ron, call D.A. - Neville, Luna and anyone you can summon up. Spy on Malfoy and Snape...protect all the students if you can. Here is the Map.”

Ron took the Map.

“Keep safe, all of you,” said Harry before he rushed out of Gryffindor common room.

 

Hermione was in a trance.

They were to spy on Malfoy and Snape. Opinions were divided on that point. Ron called up Luna and Neville, who all agreed that Malfoy was the one they needed to keep an eye on as Hermione had found his unusual behavior in girl’s bathroom. So they set off to find Malfoy and he was nowhere to be seen.

Hermione felt dizzy after drinking the Felix Felicis. And they divided into pairs - Luna with Neville, Ron with Ginny, she was the one left. Without thinking twice, Hermione blurted she could spy on Snape. To her astonishment, no one argued on that decision and they happily let she go, alone.

What was the Felix Felicis playing at?

Driven by an impulse from nowhere, she headed for Snape’s office, only to bump into the potions master outside his dungeon.

“Good evening, Professor,” said Hermione, still dreamy.

“Good evening, Miss Granger,” sneered Snape. “Why a popular and loved girl such as you will stroll in the corridor when it’s so late?”

Hermione gazed at him. The nearby window of the corridor was open. His long robe billowed behind him.

Felix Felicis said it’s tonight.

“If - ” said Snape.

“Hello, _Epans_ ,” said Hermione.

Snape stiffened.

“Hello, Heranger.”

“So the blenched miserable nightshirt is true?”

“Laugh if you like.”

Hermione didn’t laugh.

“When...when did you find out I am Heranger?” asked Hermione.

“You mentioned Longbottom and Draco.”

“Oh,” Hermione blinked.

This dialogue was so embarrassing.

“And when did you?” Snape’s gaze fell upon her.

“Legilimency. I saw a pink envelope,” said Hermione. “I knew you did it on purpose - I am no Legilimens. And...and I invented Krum story to provoke you, making you jealous... that’s all.”

Silence swallowed them.

“So,” Snape began, “the charming, cute and lovable description is true?”

Hermione avoided his stare, flushing. “Truly. Madly. Deeply.”

“Well - ” a sudden sting on his forearm seized Snape, whose face was drained out of color.

_Now? WHY NOW?_

“What’s up, Professor?”

Without further ado, Snape rushed to the widow nearby and saw the Dark Mark above the sky.

_They are coming. The mission. The Unbreakable Vow. The dark side._

Giving Hermione a wan smile, Snape pushed he inside his office. No. In no circumstance would he have her enmeshed in this. He had to protect her.

“Listen,” Snape pinned Hermione to the wall in the office, “this is urgency. You stay here. I am on an arduous mission - ”

“What’s going on?”

“You will know sooner or later,” said Snape curtly. “Then perhaps you - ”

“I love you,” blurted Hermione.

_It’s Felix Felicis! Not me! I am not that transparent!_

Snape’s muscle tautened.

“My office is under the protection of multiple charms so you will be one hundred percent safe here. I will cast an extra spell to prevent you from leaving here, which will last half an hour, understand?”

“Yes...”

Snape ran out of the door.

Ten seconds later.

The door burst open - it was Snape again.

“Pro - ”

The rest of the word was locked behind her lips Snape pressed his against them. His breath was scalding while lips icy. Then Snape withdrew from her, rushing out of the office again.

Hermione sat in the darkness, tracing her mouth with her finger, feeling  even dizzier.

Slughorn was right: Felix Felicis made an ordinary day epic.

 

Albus Dumbledore died that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Personally, next chapter is my favorite one.  
> [the results have come out. feeling like committing suicide]


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My deepest apologies.  
> I have been preparing for my college entrance exams, which is like your SATs or O.W.L.s. I had no time to pity myself in the aftermath as I had to move all my books and test paper in classroom home. My home is not so close to school [I take a ship to go to school every week] so my parents rented a room opposite my senior high school so I only go home in weekends. After graduation I also had to empty the rented room... Tons of clothes and other stuffs. Argh.  
> Then I spent days to sort them - threw those I no longer need and put the rest away. In the end, I had three stacks of textbooks and test paper to recycle for money, each of which was taller than me!  
> Luckily, the chaos finally ends *take a glance at my room and see a dozen of opened bags scattered everywhere*. And my room finally looks like a normal girl's bedroom [depends on how you define "normal"], not a Hogwarts castle ground after the final battle. Speaking of castles, I live in a five-story house by river and it takes eons for me to move all the things around. Can't imagine how Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students manage to do that when they pack. I don't have magical stairs to get in my way at all and it has been that hard.  
> Anyway, I am back, back to dearest fanfic world. Sorry for keeping you waiting so long.

Panic raged through the wizarding world. Trust crisis ensued.

Pandemonium.

Harry asked Hermione how Snape behaved that night before he cast the Unforgivable Curse and she dodged this question by weeping. She still had difficulty in understanding why her professor did so. In the lengthy half an hour, she lit her wand and examined his office - a stack of carefully piled letter in the drawer told her how Snape cherished her letters. He was no villain, never.

After Dumbledore’s funeral, they dispersed. Hermione rummaged under her and and took out all the letters Epans sent her, some of which yellowed from age. She re-read them and recalled the counterpart in Snape’s office, indulging in sweet old memories.

 

Snape posed himself in an old couch, his eyes narrowing. The Dark Lord had endowed him paramount honor as Bella said. As for other Death Eaters, they trusted him, regarding him as a fiend capable of murder just like them.

That’s all he earned.

How admirable.

A sudden knock in the door brought him back to reality.

_Postman?_

He got to his feet. The door swung open with a flick of his wand - Hermione Granger stood here.

Luckily Wormtail had returned to serve the Dark Lord.

“I suppose I owe me an explanation,” said Hermione, entering the gloomy house, the door closed behind her.

“A Death Eater could kill you, you silly girl,” said Snape, pointing his wand at her.

“No, you won’t.”

“I killed Dumbledore.”

“I intend to believe that you are a mere victim of circumstance. Perhaps under Imperius.”

“I was sane,” said Snape.

“There must be some reason. Double agent affairs, if I might guess,” said Hermione firmly.

“You still think I am on your side after I killed perhaps the only man in the world who trusts me, Miss Granger?” asked Snape in a softened voice. “Then why not share the Order with your sentiments? They must be thrilled to accept me again.”

“Coincidentally they don’t know Epans since childhood. I am the only who bothers to discover that you are not a hideous bastard at all!” Hermione pulled Snape’s pointing wand away furiously. “And thanks to your refusal of telling me anything now I don’t have a damn idea what’s going on in your mind!”

“Then why not read it? I taught you Legilimency, Miss Granger.”

The word, Legilimency, was the final spark that ignited her wrath.

“For your information, _Professor,_ that prat standing in front of me is arguably the most talented Occlumens in the world!”

“My culpability.”

Snape raised his wand and tapped her forehead.

“What - ”

“I, Severus Snape,” said Snape, regardless of the baffled look on her face, “solemnly swear in the name of my life and afterlife that,” his other hand found Hermione’s jaw and forced her to stare at him, “every Legilimens spell, be they feeble or powerful, as long as it’s from Miss Granger, the silly girl standing in front of me who broke in a Death Eater’s house just now, could read my mind like an open book. This spell won’t expire until...my death.”

A silver blue light glitter on where the wand met her skin.

“Don’t mess with my old memories so much,” Snape lowered his wand. “What’s done, is done.”

 

They snuggled themselves against each other on the small couch. Hermione could feel his heartbeat like a lullaby with steady rhythms.

And his happiness.

Long live Legilimency. She could know what’s going on in his mind even without casting a spell sometimes.

“When will you tell Harry his fate?”

“Not until the last time. Not until the Dark Lord puts Nagini under his protection.”

“What if something hampers you when the time comes?” Hermione held his hand. “Then nobody will know your true loyalty.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

Snape squeezed her hand to comfort her. “Once I see the protected snake I promise I will inform Potter immediately so - ”

“No,” blurted Hermione. “Harry and Ron and I will go on a journey to find and destroy... (she hesitated) Horcruxes. We won’t be in Hogwarts in the next year.”

Snape’s eyes narrowed.

“Funny that I don’t have the same information. Dumbledore must be sniggering in his grave now.”

“You need to protect yourself. Don’t treat your life like something worthless as if it’s all for redemption,” said Hermione. “I...I Oblivated my parents this summer in order to keep them in blissful ignorance. You need such preparation, too.”

“May I assume that you want to Oblivate me?”

“No,” Hermione flicked her wand, conjuring a flask out of the air. “Put those precious thoughts into it. I will let Harry see as long as we destroy all the Horcruxes.”

“How could you let him see with no Pensieve? Unless you three seek Horcruxes inside Hogwarts,” reminded Snape.

Hermione had to admit he was right.

“Anyway, don’t carry your memory in your mind - what if You-Know-Who forced his followers to perform the same spell as you did to me just now?”

Snape picture the Dark Lord asking all the Death Eaters to form a queue and tap his bald head one by one like those Buddhists did to a wooden fish.

He choked.

“Well,” having realized she sad something stupid, Hermione made another suggestion. “Hide your memory somewhere in Headmaster’s office. Let me to do the enlightening job - I can tell Harry directly what he needs to do.”

Obediently, Snape took out his memory and put it into the little flask. In no way could the Dark Lord break his Occlumency, yet this time he allow himself to be the protected one.

 

Eyeing her sleeping face affectionately, Snape doubted tomorrow will be more wonderful than this blissful piece he called today.

Though it’s early morning already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you will get use to my style of writing smut - that is, none.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sincerely recommend Icey on Steam. Really amazing.

Two destroyed, five left.

Hermione counted the Horcruxes, the day they had spent in the tent and above all, the day before her reunion with him.

Days were lengthy, whilst years were short. Could Voldemort detect the destruction of his Horcruxes? Could they collect them all? And the locket...they had no idea how to destroy it.

What’s worse, Ron was gone, which made Hermione fed up with spending time with those brats. However, this was her mission. All her family, Hogwarts, wizarding world, her dearest professor... were counting upon they three.

“Hermione,” called Harry.

“Yes?”

“You go inside and take a rest. My turn to watch out.”

“But - ”

“You are exhausted. Just...sleep.”

“Okay.”

“You know what, Hermione,” said Harry, “I miss Ron, really. Thank you for not leaving me after...after all this.”

“Drop it. You know I am not doing all this just for _the Chosen One_ ,” said Hermione. The last thing she needed now was such sensitive feelings.

“Then for who? Ron? Krum?” joked Harry.

“For the whole world,” said Hermione before crawling into the tent, “for the Muggles and the magical world. For one day that everyone dares to speak his name out aloud. For one day that nobody will be forced to part from their loved ones. That’s all.”

“Noble,” grunted Harry.

 

Hermione had a dreamless sleep. Yet when she woke up, it’s only two hours later, and, someone had stood in the tent.

Snape.

“How do you find us? Where is Harry?” cried Hermione in surprise.

Next second, Snape brushed her lips with his and Hermione tasted them. Salty. Then Snape bit her lips maliciously.

“Three points from Gryffindor for calling other boy’s name the moment you see me,” muttered Snape.

Gasping, Hermione eyed him. “On what mission you are here?”

“Sending the Gryffindor sword to you three. I’ve cast a Patronus to lead Potter.”

“Two,” corrected Hermione. “Ron is gone.”

“The Weasley boy is with Potter, trying to save him from the icy cold lake,” chuckled Snape.

“What?” Hermione’s eyes widened.

“I threw the sword into lake to divert Potter’s attention. Now they might be breaking the locket with it,” said Snape. “How many Horcruxes left?”

“Four. Seven in total,” answered Hermione dully.

“So there will be another punishment for your lack of hard work, Miss Granger.”

He leaned forward again, his lips finding hers. This time she did not just accept but reciprocated. And it was then the kiss was deepened that they heard footsteps outside. Frustrated, they parted from each other, both panting.

“Another five points from Gryffindor for that interruption,” hissed Snape before Apparated.

 

The final day occurred.

After their intrusion, all the students were waken, assembling in the Great Hall with their pajamas on. But for the tense circumstance, this would be a nice pajama party and Hermione thought of Snape almost simultaneously.

That night in Spinner’s End, he promised her that he would store the memory in Headmaster’s office. If this was not the final time, there could never be another. True. In his memory, Dumbledore warned Snape not to reveal it until Voldemort began protecting his giant snake. Since they had broken Dumbledore’s secrecy policy already, one more violation counted nothing.

McGonagall was giving orders curtly. The professors combed Hogwarts but Snape was nowhere to be seen - the door of Headmaster’s office stood shut even after McGonagall shouted the password out.

“No time left to find out our dear Death Eater headmaster,” shouted McGonagall. “Young Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, follow Professor Flitwick! Horace, lead those Slytherins outside! Pomona, guide those Hufflepuffs. Go! Go!”

“So let go and fetch the crown,” said Harry to Ron and Hermione. “Then we only have Nagini to deal with.”

“Okay, let’s go,” agreed Ron. “Where should we start?”

_So this is the final time._

Hermione eyed Harry. “Ron and I will go and find the crown, you will...see Snape.”

“What the hell? McGonagall says he is nowhere to be seen and even if I want to revenge it’s not proper time to - ”

“No,” snapped Hermione. “Listen, Harry, I know it’s hard to accept but he is on our side even after Dumbledore’s death. The only thing you’ve got to do is getting into the Headmaster’s office, right now!”

Harry pointed his wand at Hermione, so did Ron.

“You are not Hermione Granger. Who are you under the Polyjuice Potion?”

Hermione rolled her eyes. Snape must be waiting in the office with the precious bottle of memory and she had to be struck with two morons, one of which happened to be the Chosen One. Cockamamie world.

“You, Harry Potter, said ‘noble’ the moment I told you why I didn’t leave you as Ron did in the night you found the sword of Gryffindor. And you, Ron Weasley - or Ronald Weasley, or Roonil Wazlib whatever - complained about my dish when we were looking for the Horcruxes and ran away. Now, for Merlin’s sake, could you please believe I am Hermione?” Hermione panted. “Plus, Professor Snape _really_ has crucial information for you, Harry! And then you will understand why he killed Dumbledore!”

“How do you know this?” the wands were lowered.

Hermione took a deep breath. “I am his girlfriend, fine?”

They looked petrified.

 

 _Professor McGonagall says she use the latest password and it’s won’t open, so how can I get in?_ Harry thought as he approached the Headmaster’s office.

Through Hermione’s brief explanation he knew that Snape’s kill had already been planed by Dumbledore himself, thus he could gain Voldemort’s trust entirely and delivered the sword to them. But he still feel uncomfortable.

“Snape! _Professor_  Snape? I am Harry Potter!”

Gosh this must be the most absurd thing he had ever done.

Yet the door swung open for him.

Harry peered inside. Snape was in his usual black robe, sitting behind the desk, on which placed Pensieve and an empty flask.

“Quick.”

“May I ask why Hermione claims as your girlfriend?” he saw Snape’s lips curled into something like a smile. “And why - ”

With a flick of Snape’s wand Harry was dragged forward by an invisible hand. His face met the silver blue water in the Pensieve. Snape pushed his head down so fiercely that Harry nearly drowned.

It’s never too late to revenge.


	12. Chapter 12

Now it’s time to met his little Heranger, Superb Spider’s girlfriend.

Snape redressed himself in his gray nightshirt, which attracted many sniggers from the portraits. Of course he couldn’t miss the final battle, and his presence couldn’t be showed, either. So he turned to Polyjuice Potion. The hair came from a young Muggle who had nothing in common with him.

Excellent.

As he took in the potion, the exterior of his body began to melt like heated wax and reshaped into an innocent-look boy. All the Death Eaters came to fight in their decent robes, yet the students were waken from their sound sleep, which made it easier to definite Death Eaters - those not in pajamas.

He strode out of the office, Harry’s face still in the Pensieve.

 

The very moment he walked downstairs, Snape found a fighting girl, cornered by three Death Eaters.

“ ** **Stupefy****!”

The light shot from her wan but missed them, however, with a shocked look on his face, the man collapsed on his own blood pound.

Sectumsempra.

A nonverbal one.

“Snape!” one of the Death Eaters recognized the spell immediately and turned back, only to be hit by another Sectumsempra.

The only Death Eater left grabbed Hermione by neck and pushed her forward as his shield. “Stop! Snape! How dare you? You are on our side!”

Hermione’s wrists were gripped tightly behind her. She struggled to inhale.

“Snape? Who is Snape?” the attacker emerged from the darkness. He had blonde hair and blue eyes, much younger than Snape was.

The Death Eater was distracted for a moment and the blue-eyed man seized the opportunity to cast another spell.

****“** ** ****Sectumsempra!** ** ****”** **

This time it’s audible.

Hermione knelt down as she lost her balance. A warm hand pulled her to her feet.

“What happened to your little friends that they leave such a lovable girl alone?” his usual taunting style.

“Ron goes for the Chamber of Secrets to destroy the Horcrux. Neville takes the sword. He is going to kill Nagini if successful. I was to join D.A. members when - ”

“Well then, stay safe. I am going to finish the rest of scums,” he said.

“Nice Polyjuice Potion, Epans,” giggled Hermione, “though your gray nightshirt sells you out.”

“This is the best pajama party I have ever attended,” winked Snape. “And, call Epans three times after everything is settled.”

He disappeared.

 

After the second war. Daily Prophet.

MYSTERIOUS DEATHS OF DEATH EATERS - WHERE WAS SEVERUS SNAPE?

As is known to all the wizards in streets, Severus Snape served as a double agent for the Order of Phoenix during the second war. Through Albus Dumbledore’s secret plan, he had to kill Dumbledore to gain You-Know-Who’s trust. It is not until Harry Potter, the Chosen One, has raised form the Pensive that he realized Snape is on our side. And Potter finally defeated You-Know-Who thanks to Snape’s instruction, yet Snape was never seen since.

After the battle, Hogwarts crew cleaned the mess up and to their astonishment, the number of dead Death Eaters reached incredibly high - that is, nearly all the supporters of You-Know-Who who joined this battle are killed.

And not by the killing curse.

Lucious Malfoy, the Death Eater who changed sides at the last moment as well as his wife, Narcissa Black Malfoy to save their son, Draco Malfoy, a Slytherin enmeshed in the battle, recognized that the curse is definitely from Snape, which is his signature move. This spell is called Sectumsempra, which makes the victim bleed to death if not healed properly and immediately. On most of the Death Eater’s bodies lying in Hogwarts they find wounds from Sectumsempra, therefore that night they were literally in a bloodbath.

“So Snape must be present that night,” said an Auror.

Luckily, one of the Death Eaters didn’t die at Hogwarts. He was taken to St. Mungo’s for further treatment, interrogation and conviction. Yet he insisted it was a young man with blonde hair and blue eyes that cast Sectumsempra.

“And he was in a gray nightshirt,” he emphasized, “the seams of which were baby pink. Must be the oddest pajama I’ve ever seen.”

This makes the situation more labyrinthine.

 

SPINNER’S END BEEN SEARCHED

Narcissa Black Malfoy, who lied to You-Know-Who that Harry Potter is dead to save both Potter and her son Draco Malfoy, revealed that she once visited Spinner’s End with her sister Bellatrix Black Lestrange, a Death Eater killed by Molly Weasley in the final battle, to plead Severus Snape in order to protect her son. With her guidance, Aurors found the Spinner’s End, which is full of Muggle dwellings. The house Narcissa once visited is missing.

We sincerely welcome any valuable information.

 

RITA SKEETER’S PREPARING A NEW BOOK

After the success of her previous biography, ****The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore**** , Rita Skeeter is planning on writing a biography for Severus Snape of late.

“Yes, yes,” beamed Rita when interviewed, “this one is more challenging as Snape is more sophisticated than Dumbledore, as a consequence, his life is more mysterious to us.”

“So this one’s title will be ****Severus Snape**** ** **’**** ** **s Life and Lies****? He does tell a lot of lies, especially to You-Know-Who.”

“No, no,” beamed Rita, raising a finger, “I am going to name it ****Severus Snape, Saint or Scoundrel**** , which explains his characteristics and life experience perfectly well.”

...

 

RITA SKEETER’S ABRUPT ALLERGY

After declaring the plan of new book, Rita Skeeter retreated to an isolated island to continue her work, “or someone won’t like me worm out their secrets as I will mention her in my book”. However, recently Rita discovered she is allergic to parchment, even a single piece makes her sneeze and cough endlessly. Therefore she has to abandon her book and work and Rita has been sent to St. Mungo’s, where the Healers discover it’s a jinx they never hear of.

“We haven’t found an therapy yet. And I daresay there is none,” said one Healer. “It’s even hard to attribute this to dark magic - we truly doubt who is that bored to invent such a jinx.”

 

Hermione burst into a laughter when she read this. She bet Epans was in, and the invention was umpteen times better than the buttoning one.

It had been two months since the war ended; summer had come. Perhaps it’s time.

She had lifted the Oblivate on her parents, gained their forgiveness and hinted them she had a boyfriend, though they had no idea about his true identity.

On one sunny summer morning, Hermione Apparated in Spinner’s End, the house she once visited wasn’t there.

“Epans. Epans. Epans!” called Hermione.

A door swung open dorm nowhere. Snape stood there.

“You ought to know that I am always grumpy in the morning, silly girl,” said Snape, his lips curling.

Yet Hermione knew Snape was pleased now - as if his skull had turned transparent and ****NICE TO MEET YOU AGAIN SWEETHEART****  was flashing inside in large bold dazzling letter.

“The camouflage is lame as you have permit me to read your mind entirely, sweetheart,” chuckled Hermione, spreading her arms to hug him.

“Then I truly regret it,” said Snape.

As she leaned closer, she felt a bulge in his...loins?

Hermione looked up.

“I said I am grumpy in the morning,” said Snape.

“That grumpy?”

Slowly Hermione’s hands moved downwards and cupped the erection in her palms, which hardened and grew scalding.

“It longs for you,” said Snape, cradling her and closed the door.

 

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to throw kudos and comments at me (๑•ᴗ•๑)


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